


The Little Spoon

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: There are things that Parker understands - why vaults have security and why she likes the rush of wind in her hair when she rappels down a building and why being a mastermind is more than just planning a job - and there are things she most certainly does not.  Hugs are one of those things.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94
Collections: The Leverage Exchange Master Collection





	The Little Spoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabylonsFall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/gifts).



Parker

There are things that Parker understands - why vaults have security and why she likes the rush of wind in her hair when she rappels down a building and why being a mastermind is more than just planning a job - and there are things she most certainly does not. Hugs are one of those things. 

Hugging is a strange concept to Parker. It doesn’t seem to serve a practical purpose, as far as she can tell. It’s just - weird. And she’s not overly fond of being hugged, mostly because it makes her feel trapped. She doesn’t like feeling trapped. 

She doesn’t understand why people hug. For a long time, it doesn’t particularly matter because it’s not like she’s around a lot of people. But then she joins the team and is around people on a regular basis again. Except these people are nicer than the ones in her foster homes and the older kids she ran with. Parker doesn’t mind quite as much anymore that Hardison will hug her when something goes well or that Sophie will pat her hand for comfort. It’s almost nice, except Parker still isn’t quite sure what the guidelines for hugging are. She never knows how long to hold on for, or how close to get to a person, or when it’s appropriate to even offer a hug. Hugs seem to have a rule system all their own. It’s a bit beyond Parker.

Being in a relationship is nice. Parker likes knowing that she has Hardison and Eliot to talk to when she’s lonely or bored or sad or happy. She likes knowing that there are people who love her for who she is, because that’s something she hasn’t felt in a long time. But Parker still finds the hugging that comes with relationships difficult. She’s okay with slinging an arm around Eliot as they work or resting her chin on Hardison’s shoulder as she watches him hack. That’s one thing. Hugs - intimate, caring, loving - are another. So she waits and watches and hopes maybe the others understand.

Eliot

For a very long time - too long, Eliot thinks, or maybe knows - touch has meant pain. He’s used to a fist connecting with a cheekbone or a kick to the chest. It’s - not normal, because he knows for certain that the way he lives isn’t normal - but expected. 

Touch now is different, sometimes. Sometimes, he still gets beaten up. Now, though, there are people waiting to patch him back up. Parker’s there to gingerly arrange ice packs on his bruises, her hands flitting around as she works to make sure she doesn’t cause more pain. Hardison has always been more tactile. After a bad fight, he seems to need to reassure himself that Eliot’s still - more or less - in one piece. Sometimes, it’s a relieved hug. Other times, it’s a pat on the back or a quick fist bump. Reassurance, Eliot thinks, but he comes to wait for Hardison to reach out. It’s comforting knowing that others care. 

It’s hard for Eliot to show affection. Part of him is scared that an old enemy will notice and target those he loves. It’s pointless, though, to worry about that, because by now most people know who he’s running with and that they’re not to be messed with. Another part of him doesn’t quite remember how to show affection, at least not in the way that Hardison seems to show it. 

“Do you like hugging?” Parker asks one day. She’s perched on the back of the couch and frowning at her toes. 

Eliot pauses. “I don’t - hate it.” He says finally. “Why?”

Parker shrugs, still not looking at him. “It makes me feel trapped.” She says. “I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

“There are other ways to tell people you care.” Eliot says. Parker tilts her head, considering this.

Hardison

Hardison knows, objectively, that he’s the most normal out of the three of them (if a hacker could, in any sense of the word, be called normal). He knows that he has different experiences, different ways of viewing the world that are filtered through the same hurts that Parker and Eliot have experienced. It doesn’t make it easier, though, when Parker stiffens when he hugs her without thinking or when Eliot’s defenses go up when he knocks shoulders with him as they walk. It - 

It’s not that it hurts, not exactly. Hardision knows why they are like that and he loves them anyways. He loves them wholeheartedly and for every piece of them, just as he knows they love him. It’s just sad. He tries not to let it show. Sometimes, that works. 

It’s a rainy day. Hardison hasn’t seen either Parker or Eliot for hours, holed up as he is playing a video game. Parker - stealthy as ever - suddenly appears next to him and sits on the couch. 

“Hi.” She says. She’s got a nervous energy radiating off of her. 

“Hi.” Hardison says, putting down his controller. Something’s up.

“Um, so you know how I don’t like hugging that much?” Parker says in a rush. “I mean, I don’t like hate it hate it, but I don’t really like it. And then Eliot said that’s not the only way to tell you I like you, and I know you know I like you because we’re -”

“Hold up, mama.” Hardison interrupts, because Parker hasn’t taken a breath since she started talking. “What’s going on?”

“Eliot?” Parker calls out. “I’m not really doing this right.”

Eliot walks into the room and tosses something at Hardison. He catches a blanket. “We’re building a blanket fort.” He says in the voice he uses when he’s trying to pretend that he’s not excited. 

“Okay.” Hardison says, still not piecing together this conversation. “Why?”

“I like snuggling.” Parker blurts out. “And so does Eliot. You make us feel all cozy and safe.”

Hardison doesn’t know how to explain how much he loves these two people. “So, blanket fort snuggles?” He clarifies. “With Parker as the big spoon?”

“I am not spooning.” Eliot says, but they all know that’s a lie. 

“Thanks.” Hardison says, squeezing Parker’s hand. “Snuggles are good.”


End file.
